7 Ways You Know You Have Grown Up

Struggles in life and the choices you make all bring you to the same screwed up place as everyone else. The scenery is just a little different on the trip there. But during these trials and tribulations there is a point when you realize you’ve entered into a domain that few have visited, but rarely anyone stays. No, I’m not talking about that Egyptian-Chippendales fusion restaurant you stumbled into the other day. I’m referring to adulthood. Don’t know if you reached that point yet? Fret not. I’ve got 7 Ways You Know You’ve Grown Up.

7. You Can Cook For Yourself

Being a Grown Up

Eating use to be exciting. You wake up, shit yourself, and have a nipple shoved in your mouth where a life stream came flowing into your largest orifice and ignited your senses. Hell, I’d drink breast milk now if only society wouldn’t compare me to Jerry Sandusky. Now as an adult, I wake up, scratch myself, pass gas, realize I urinated the bed, shrug, urinate in the bed again, stumble into the living room, realize I already am in the living room, realize I just pissed on my sofa… twice, stumble into the kitchen, and mutter obscenities at my stove until it cooks me an omelet.

Yes, amongst the countless other things that fruitlessly fill your day, you must also provide nourishment for yourself. And not only that, you must give off the appearance that you know how to cook. There are only so many places you can hide a Kid Cuisine box in your apartment when you finally bring home a date. What’s this? “A tomato,” you say? And it’s not only a fruit, but a vegetable as well? Gasp! Witchcraft.

A conundrum has fallen upon your already tortured soul and you haven’t even turn the stove on yet. Don’t worry though. She didn’t see you try to peel it with your wine opener. Suddenly, an idea strikes you. “Did I ever tell you I’m Italian,” you suavely interject. A stunned look appears on her face. You tell her to go use the powder room while you make a pizza from scratch… at which point you call Papa John’s and tell them to hurry the F up.

6. You Pay Bills

There was a time when I enjoyed putting a stamp on bills as my mother wept while writing out that dreaded mortgage check to the bank. Today, I find myself muttering, “There goes another 45 cents,” as I shove my rent check into the envelope. Suddenly, my rectum feels sore. Curious.

The day you receive your first letter demanding payment for services will be the first day of the worst 65 years of your life. Remember the time when you could freely suck on your parents’ teat without reprehensions? Ya, neither do I. Put on your favorite lipstick and start practicing your kissing. Because you’ll be doing that a lot. To your paychecks.

Learning frivolous words like “Compact Fluorescent Tube” and “Long Term Evolution” and “Why-Did-My-Heating-Bill-Just-Go-Up-300-Kilowatts” become part of everyday life. Soon, you’ll find yourself suffering from consumer regret when you max out a credit card by buying Hampton Direct’s entire supply of Twin Draft Guards. Days are filled with the adventure of finding out which one of your neighbors gives off the strongest WiFi signal as you sit at their door and leech off their internet service. To bring back the time when the most strife in your life came from trying to figure out why Pikachu hasn’t evolved yet…

5. You Have Had Your Heart Broken

You’re not a man until you’ve cried. Hard. Like, really awkward, curled lip, squinted eyes cried. And no, losing it over the ending of Titanic doesn’t count. I mean pouring your heart and soul into something and then having it ripped away from you so all that’s left is what you’d get if you told Nicole Polizzi that binge drinking doesn’t exist. Well, you’d probably get a blank stare. But what I was going for was “emptiness.”

In a sense, this doesn’t have to relate to breaking up with someone. But if it did, we have a list of things to help you through that. No, no. This could relate to anything. A death… how morbid. Having your favorite beer cozy stolen, watching Goldberg lose to Kevin Nash at Starrcade, or realizing they are making another… Resident… Evil… Movie… My… God… I hope the Mayans were wrong and the end comes before September 14.

Knowing that you’re in touch enough with your sensitive side shows you are ready to take on the many challenges of adulthood. Girls for example… girls like sensitivity. But not too much. You don’t want to catch her trying to hide her enlarged Adam’s Apple because her body started dumping testosterone into her system to offset the fact that you just spontaneously lactated. Just enough to show that you’ve been through the ringer a couple dozen times and know to appreciate what you have. Plus, she’ll think it’s really cool that you’re the weird one talking about your feelings post coitus and not her.

4. You Live On Your Own

THIS… IS… AWESOME… No really. You thought college was a free-for-all, no holds bar, shit show… well, take that, subtract your annoying RA, add a landlord that doesn’t speak English, divide away your straight-edge room mate, and multiply by an 85-year-old widow that forgets to replace the battery for her hearing aid on a daily basis. Guess what that equals? That’s right. Another chain of command for you to fall in line with.

Except this time, there is this tiny word called “eviction” that you will lose countless hours of sleep over because your supposed internship didn’t summate into that full time job all your college buddies promised to you. So now you’re working 16 hour shifts trying to accumulate enough funds in order to pay for the inflation that is your rent.

After much reflection you realize that these are, and I’d like to use the current craze that plagues our social networks, #grownmanproblems… and that excites you in some masochistic way. You’re by yourself. You don’t have homework to worry about. You can drink… openly… on your porch… in the nude… without fear for having a plastic badge kick you out of your dorm room. Your days become suddenly filled with ways to abuse this new found glory. Should I have a beer before work? Tee hee hee. Oh, how devilish.

No, No. Perhaps I’ll try hanging myself in my closet while I masturbate… David Carridine would certainly approve. Come on! Think… there’s gotta be something more daring than THAT. No matter. I live alone. I’ve made it. I have plenty of time to think of something, anything. In the meantime, where did I store my rope at?

3. You Have Found Your Identity

This is the thing that makes me believe we may never truly grow up as a human race. Do people ever find themselves? I forgot who I was back at #6. Wait, just found myself. I am a romantic with Multiple Personality Disorder. I hope you’re enjoying my articles. No one enjoys your articles; you sound like a lunatic. I actually enjoy his writing. You three are a riot to listen to.

What we truly ever know about ourselves is equivalent to the percentage chance that Lindsay Lohan will stay sober this time… which is zero. A really… big… zero. Men and women go their entire lives trying to decide the role they want to play in this lifetime. How can we expect women to settle with themselves when they can’t even accessorize in an appropriate amount of time? And men… men just don’t care. Their lackadaisical nature is synonymous with that of a 15 year old pothead. Shit never gets done around the house. What makes you think they have time to ponder the mysteries of their soul? Hell no. Especially if it’s a Sunday between September and January. You can kiss self-evaluation good bye.

If you do manage to find time in between episodes of Mob Wives to look within thyself, you might see something worth getting to know. Finding comfort within me is the main reason why I can walk outside in my red onesie to retrieve my mail. After this happens, you’re ready to go out and change the world with your new self. Volunteer work sounds enticing. Nah, something more trendy these days. I heard Invisible Children is the cool, new thing to get suckered into. Give that a try.

2. You Can Go to the Movies Alone

That romantic comedy just came out… you know the one… it’s got Zooey Deschanel playing the loveable introvert who just wants to find her way in life and Matthew Mcconaughey playing the masculine narcissist who just wants to discover the benefits of deodorant. Hmm, who to go with? I can call Jake… but then I’ll probably be the butt of every “tuck” joke for the rest of my life. How about Teresa? Even though she’s already pulled the friend card on me, there’s still a chance. My self-esteem is already at an all-time low so that’s a “no.” You know what… F it. I’ll go by myself.

You get to the movie theatre and stand in line and that’s when the realization hits you. There are couples… everywhere. When did the entire population decide to hop on e-Harmony and match up with one another? Okay. Fine. You can adjust. You look to your right and… … … great. Now there are cliques of pre-teens snickering and staring at you. Play it cool. You take out your phone and pretend to dial your invisible girlfriend. Hey babe. *Insert chuckle* No, No. I’m here. Ya. Waiting for you. I know. Yep. Just try to hurry up so we don’t miss the previews. Okay. Yep. Love you too. Buh-bye. You hang up on your imaginary soul mate and… … … success. Everyone is caught up in their own exploits. A smug look appears on your face as you saunter up to the ticket booth. “How many tickets, sir?” Shit. Grin and bear it. Just grin… “2 please,” … and bear it.

Tears of rapture and a visual climax later, you head home to blog about your existential experience. You put the finishing touches on your literary masterpiece and post it. Ah. A night well spent. Suddenly, your article blows up with comments. In your giddy excitement, you log on to find… “Wait, you went alone?” “Who goes to the movies by themselves?!” “What an awful movie!” “Couldn’t find a date or something?” F those hipsters. Mcconaughey was brilliant.

1. You Drink at Home

You. Can’t. Stand. Bars. Or clubs. Or Dance Halls. Or people. Definitely people. People suck. Drunk people suck more. Drunk people who obstruct you from pouring sweet, sweet release down your gullet so your own stupor drowns out the inadequacies around you suck even more.

It’s a switch. You don’t quite realize it at first. But your friend comes over one night. He’s got that gaudy baby blue button up on. You… you’re in a white tee with mustard stains down the front of it and gym shorts with your hands shoved down them. What’s in your hand? A nursed beer. What’s on TV? Anything. Doesn’t matter. This is bliss. Until. He. Ruined. Everything.

“Dude, put on clothes. We’re going out! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” You slowly raise your palm to your face. A nerve has been struck. One you never knew you owned. Normally you’d jump out of your seat, shotgun your beer… but your beer is glass… fuck it. You break it over your own head and suck the beer as it dribbles down your skull. Careful to avoid the blood. You throw on that cardigan you bought at JC Pennys and call a cab. Ah, another perfect Saturday night.

But no, this is different. You can’t even consider “going out” an option. It repulses you that you’ll spend the next 3 hours surround by fresh 21 year olds who think being drunk anywhere other than their dorm closet exhilarating. And the music. Bass. Snare. Bass Bass. Snare. “I LOVE THIS SONG!!!” screams a girl in your ear. Now you have acute deafness. It’s. Not. Worth. It. You politely say, “no,” to your friend. And his baby blue button up. Especially that.


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Categories: People

Author:Anthony Perfetto

That normal guy

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